


the batter stepping on dedan’s steel balls pov

by candycadetstan



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cock and Ball Torture, Crack Treated Seriously, Humiliation, M/M, istg please leave now this is a joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candycadetstan/pseuds/candycadetstan
Summary: After Dedan inevitably loses, The Batter takes one last opportunity to humiliate him.
Relationships: The Batter/Dedan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	the batter stepping on dedan’s steel balls pov

Blood drips between the guardian’s teeth, pooling on the floor under his grey body. Soaking into his now shredded cloak.

The Batter cracks his namesake into the floor, just shy of Dedan’s crotch. He winces, squirming about the bat between his legs, gritting his teeth and feeling the broken enamel grinding against itself - how the fuck did this puppet get strong enough to break this many bones in his body? He’s made of fucking steel. It should be impossible really, but as a foot swings into his side, dislodging more fractured pieces of rib and sinking with a wretched squelch into one lung, he is reminded that the impossible is currently towering over him with bloodlust in his eyes.

His foot digs further into his side, forcing a choked gurgle out of Dedan. “I came to Alma to exterminate you. It didn’t have to be this difficult.”

Dedan wheezes. “Fuck off. I’ll fucking-“ another twist reminds him that a foot isn’t really supposed to be lodged between his broken ribs. “...I’ll fucking kill you.”

He tilts his head upwards, reducing the shadow over his face so that Dedan can almost see the reflection of himself being torn to shreds in his eyes - shattered red irises swimming in a sea of black. Menacing. 

Fucking bullshit, Dedan thinks. Not to anything in particular.

The Batter removes his shoe from the guardian’s side, making sure to scrape every jutting edge of bone as he can, shoving flesh into the places it doesn’t belong. He makes a lopsided trail of bloody footprints around to Dedan’s feet, a smear on the right and a quiet tap on the left.

Using his bat, he spreads Dedan’s legs, lifting one up by the barrel to grip his ankle - it’s unyielding, and Dedan thinks that the circulation might get cut off if the puppet decides to hold up his leg for any extended period. For once though, he decides to shut the fuck up. The Batter seems to be doing something, and in all honestly his curiosity currently outweighs his hatred. Besides, saving his breath is less pressure on his lungs, which currently feel inverted.

“It didn’t have to be this difficult,” he repeats quietly. It’s strange, whenever that thing talks it seems like his voice doesn’t quite match up to his lips.

Then, The Batter picks up the foot smeared with blood and brings it down hard into Dedan’s crotch, grinding from side to side.

Dedan might vomit.

He convulses, contracting all at once before arching his back so fast he would have jumped from the floor without that foot holding him down. His hands fly out to catch nothing but air and the cold floor beneath him. His stomach convulses, and he manages to catch the tail end of a rather embarrassing half-grunt-half-moan - which seems to have come from him.

He’s lucky his balls are made of literal steel.

The Batter jabs harder with his heel, encouraging another episode of twisting and groaning, still keeping his grip unmoving on Dedan’s ankle so he can’t writhe away. As he presses down, the grey of his face darkens - as if he still has enough blood in his body to blush - as the guardian’s cries of pain turn into something which could be construed as lewd.

He pauses, stands perfectly still above Dedan while he tries to wrench his leg from his grip. How is he - or whatever’s controlling him - supposed to react to that? Dedan stops too, still shuddering from the pressure of The Batter’s foot on his fucking nards. “What the fuck. Get the fuck offa me.”

The dead-eyed stare focuses back on Dedan. He twists his foot again, noting the minuscule buck of the guardian’s hips, how the space between the sole of his foot and Dedan’s crotch gets just that bit more cramped. Clearly The Batter would never be one for dirty talk, but he’s always noticed everything and this is no exception.

“You’re disgusting.”

Dedan fumes - exactly what The high and mighty Batter was insinuating was.... well it was utter bullshit, wasn’t it? After taking a literal beating, he’d naturally be more sensitive to anything that doesn’t one-hundred-percent feel like pain. It’s not his fault.

The Batter takes his burning hot silence as resignation of some kind, because he continues; “You get off to this?”

“Fuck off.”

Having to balance using the bat in the hand not currently holding Dedan in place, The Batter shifts his foot experimentally, releasing some of the pressure. Dedan can’t help his hips bucking up to meet it again. Shit.

“Go on then,” The Batter murmurs, “Get yourself off before I split your head in two like those cows.”

It’s a relief to feel seething rage take over his bloodstream once again. “You kill my fucking people and destroy my fucking land, and then you DARE to fucking humiliate me?”

“Yes.”

Dedan breathes through the broken ribs, feeling every bone weigh heavy on his lungs in all the wrong places. There’s not much he can do other than let his head fall back and take a few more heaving gasps, trying not to choke on his own blood and spit. The aftershocks of The Batter’s foot on his balls still jolt through him, a strange, burning kind of electricity which only serves to remind him that he must steel himself in the face of this monster.

In the quiet that follows, The Batter doesn’t move until Dedan’s fingers stop twitching. He steps down from his position, and drags his bat behind him as he steps over the thick arm hanging limply, until he reaches his head. He lines up the bat between his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry you had to witness this. This wasn’t my fault. It was a dare.


End file.
